Casual Affair
by I Swear On The Styx
Summary: "Let me get this straight," she said. "Out of anyone in the world, out of any of the gods to choose from, you decide that you have a crush on Mr. D?" (In other words, I'm a daughter of Hades who makes really bad life choices. Whatever, I could do way worse than a god.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, everyone! It's been a long time since anything was posted from this account. For those of you who are new, my name is Whitney, and this is sort of a new and improved version of a fanfic I wrote several years ago. It comes in two parts: this story, and the point of view of Elena, Emilie's best friend who falls in love with the god Apollo. That story is also posted on this account, called Rolling Waves, Turning Tides. written by my best friend Riley. We decided to rewrite our stories based on the fact that we're a bit older now, and that it would be a fun thing to do. Also, really, in honor of the new Apollo book. **

**A bit of background information: these fics take place a couple years after the last series. As in, Percy is older and already in college, Apollo is a god, and Mr. D is back at Camp Half-Blood. We have read the new book, but because we don't know what will happen, we're pretty much ignoring the new series for now. So there shouldn't be any spoilers.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own Emilie Reynolds!**

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When I was twelve, I wanted to go to art camp. Instead, I got Camp Half-Blood.

At first, I had no idea what the difference was. I was pulled into the living room by my parents, sat down on the couch across from a stranger, and told I was eligible to go. _Two weeks_ , he had said, _lots of activities._ _Arts and crafts, swimming, things children like these days. Practically free_.

Of course, I was ecstatic. At twelve, I was a fairly sheltered kid. My mother, Carmen, was a strict accountant who was suspicious of everyone she met. Even if the camp was free, I knew, no matter how excited I was, that she would never, _ever_ say yes.

Except, the strange thing was, she did.

I had begged her to go, and she was fairly easy to break down, much easier than usual. The second she said yes, I was off the couch and already in my room, off to gather my things. I was halfway through packing my suitcase, full of too many socks and not enough shirts, when I realized how weird it was. My over-protective mother, who would barely let me go over to Elena's house, was letting me go off by myself?

Usually, I would have had to beg my dad, or my older brother Sam- nine years older and already in college- to escort me around the subway. Elena's house was where I ended up the most, mostly because her mom was the only person my mother ever got to know, and also because she was my best friend. My mother didn't really have much of a choice but to trust her, even if Elena's hippie mom was the complete opposite of herself.

By the time I got downstairs, I was half-ready to jump out the door and half-ready to clutch to my mother in a hug and ask to stay behind. The man, who my mother had said was the camp director, was gone. In his place was a young, lanky kid, with a ballcap on his head and enough spare hairs on his chin to be around Sam's age.

He didn't say much as he helped lead me outside of my building. As I peered over the balcony, I could see the large white van parked down below, and it was the kind I couldn't see the inside of. I looked to my mom, suddenly nervous, and a little afraid. She kissed my forehead and told me to be safe, to have fun, and I walked out the front door. Her normally sharp eyes looked a little glazed- a few years later I would learn it was the work of the mist.

Inside of the van, the air conditioning was on full blast, combating the hot summer day, and the man who was inside my house was in the front row. I couldn't get a very good look at him, but the first word that came to mind as I passed by was _grumpy_. All I knew was that he didn't look too happy to be there, and he was the only adult on board. The others counselors were like my brother, teenagers in high school or college. Then there were the rest.

I joined ten or so other kids, most of which were chatting amongst were all around the same age as me, some a little younger. I sat on my own, lonely seat as the teenager who helped me in shoved my backpack and suitcase into the trunk.

Across from me, a boy with bright red hair bounced in his seat, hyper, and full excitement. I didn't think that was too weird, but the kid next to him looked like he was having a midlife crisis at age eight.

The excited boy noticed me staring, so he grinned, turned to face me, and asked, "Who's your parent?"

His foot didn't stop bouncing against the floor. His Nike sneakers, at one point in time white, were covered in dirt. "What do you mean?" I asked, glancing back at my house, noticing that the van was starting to move.

"You know, your godly parent?"

I frowned at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His smile didn't seem to falter, even though I wasn't anywhere near as happy as him. "Of course you do! You know how, like, one of your parents is a god?" He scooted closer to me, all the way to the edge of the seat. "My mother is Demeter. I totally knew my step-mom wasn't my real mom, she and my dad got married when I was four, but Mr. D and a satyr came into my house and told me all about my real mother!"

He laughed and pointed to the man at the front of the bus as he spoke. He was the same man who talked to my parents, where they had a conversation long before I made my way downstairs. My heart felt cold in my chest as I thought over his words.

Instead of answering, I turned back to look out the window. Several things about the situation weren't adding up, and at the time, I couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong. There was no singular thing that I could put my finger on.

The most confusing part of the whole situation was probably the fact that the next stop was Elena's apartment, which was only a few blocks away from mine. She sat towards the front, which I was thankful for because I was lost in my thoughts. The rest of the kids were strangers to me, and yet Elena was pulled into whatever was going on too. I wondered if I should've been happy or upset.

The kid had said his mother was Demeter, which was an odd name. It sounded old, or foreign, or something, like I should have read it in a book somewhere before. The only problem with that was the fact that I was super dyslexic, and it's unlikely that I read it in anything. Not to mention that he said his mom was God, and my mother would have had a hissy fit if he heard that- or was it god, lowercase, not omniscient, but something else entirely?

Later, I found out his mother was _the_ Greek goddess Demeter, and the man who had been in my house was the god Dionysus, the first god I had ever met. Which was actually an extreme disappointment, in terms of gods to meet.

But, overall, the conversation in the van lessened the blow when we all got to Camp Half-Blood. No matter what angle they chose, what they told us there, on that first day, changed our lives forever.

Chiron, who greeted us as we exited the bus, was short in his wheelchair. He looked warm and friendly, with a thick brown beard and kind eyes. His gaze ran over all of us as if he was counting numbers. There were more people that came on the bus after Elena was picked up, and I finally caught up to her, walking at her side as we were led to a room with a large projector screen. They gave us the basic orientation film, which looked like it was made in the fifties and titled, _The Gods and You_.

It told us, basically, that the gods from Greek mythology were real, and one of them was one of our parents. It didn't tell us who, or what, but I could take a pretty good guess as to which of my parents wasn't mine by birth.

You see, my mother, Carmen, looked identical to me. We had the same dark hair, the same tan skin, and even shared the same curved nose. However, my eyes weren't hers nor my dad's (step-dad, I had to start correcting myself). My eyes were so dark they were almost black, and looked a little sunken, sometimes seemingly emotionless. On several accounts of teasing, I was told my eyes looked soulless. My under-eye circles weren't too dark, but they definitely matched.

I assumed that my mother would have had this talk with me when I was older, when I wasn't twelve years old, but it was forced on me a little early. Phil wasn't my biological dad, and when they lined us up later that night at dinner, I found out my real dad was Hades.

I guess maybe I should back up a bit.

Phil was my dad. Even on paper. He raised me, took care of me, and we did all sorts of things together. He used to take me on little walks when I was a kid, looking for cool rocks on the trails. He met my mom in Cuba and had my older brother, and when I came around, he sacrificed his life from his hometown and original place of business in New Jersey and moved us all the way to Manhattan, where he got a well-paying job (though it didn't happen right away- he started trying to get promoted when I was a few months old and ended up getting it when I turned eight.) It wasn't the comfortable, home life that he had wanted, but law paid well at the time. It was lucky that he got the job, though, because little did he know, a demigod kid would be expensive.

When I was three, my wooden crib had spontaneously collapsed and fallen apart into pieces. My parents called for a factory reorder, and ended up with a metal one instead. When I was seven, my brother's car (old, and worn, but useful to a sixteen-year-old boy) had erupted into flames. When I said that I saw someone with three eyes running from the scene, my parents hushed me and then told me I had an overactive imagination.

In third grade, when I met Elena, these weird occurrences became more and more frequent. It amazed me, how slim of a chance it was that she and I ever met at all. We ended up in the same classroom, with the same teacher, who was ancient and losing her hearing. Since then, we'd been attached at the hip. It was only fitting that we ended up being literal family.

That is, Elena was claimed as the daughter of Poseidon at the same time I was claimed as a daughter of Hades. Cousins, even if the gods didn't actually have DNA.

The thing about Elena is, actually, the fact that her mother had been telling her who her father was the whole time. Growing up, I pretty much lived at her house, and I would overhear the things her mom would say. Hippie stuff, my mom called it disapprovingly.

Donna Westlie would talk about auras, would read our palms, would teach us the best ways to meditate and said that even the students in her yoga classes didn't get this kind of Buddhist teaching. And sometimes, every once in awhile, she would sigh, and get wistful when she mentioned Elena's father. She had told us that he was Poseidon, but Elena had told me a long time ago that her mother didn't remember who her dad even was, and made stuff up so Elena wouldn't feel left out.

I didn't really think about it until after we were claimed. At least one of our parents was telling the truth. I wasn't sure how I was going to look my mom or Phil in the eyes when I got back home after my first two weeks at camp.

Even though we were practically family, Elena and I looked nothing alike. Growing up, her hair was dark, but our junior year of high school she stopped cutting it and bleached it bright blonde. Elena was also a few inches taller than me, towering over my short, five-foot-four frame. Her eyes were light and sparkled like the sea, and her hair had a wave in it like the incoming tide. She was beautiful in a way I was not, and often shone like the sun.

In junior year, I also had a big change. My hair, which had fallen down to my waist, was cut short. I cut it to my ears, which was possibly a huge mistake. By the time the end of senior year rolled around, it hung straight and cropped right above the line of my shoulders. I was told I was beautiful, too, just in a different way. My skin had always been naturally darker, and I had always been able to pull off dark lipstick in a way that Elena never has. The pair of us looked like the sun and the moon whenever we stood side-by-side.

But at age twelve, we weren't nearly as grown. Elena and I were brought to Camp Half-Blood only days after the giant storm that hit New York, otherwise known as the demigod war. We weren't involved in the fight with Kronos, too young and still obliviously influenced by the mist. But because of a deal made with the gods, a bunch of us in nearby states were gathered up by some camp counselors, satyrs, and Mr. D, and we were brought to be claimed.

Mr. D was only there to influence the parents that didn't know their kid was a demigod, like mine. My mother had no idea who- or what- my father was. Satyrs got the easy job, with mothers or fathers who knew the gods as they truly were. My introduction to the world wasn't so lucky, and Mr. D had to use the mist to convince my overbearing mother to let me go.

The group of us had watched the orientation video, walked out of the room dazed, and went straight to the dining pavilion for dinner. We didn't get a very good look at camp on our way there, as it was getting dark. Before everyone ate, we were lined up in the front of the room and claimed. It was a short process, and not very dramatic, because there were so many of us. Our names were read off a piece of paper—all of them were said very wrong—and then told who our parent was. Well, not told. Claimed. As our name was read off, a symbol appeared over our heads.

I was hoping for something cool or interesting, like Hermes, or Demeter- only a few of the names I heard as I passed. Instead, I was stuck with the unfortunate luck of having a black skull rotate above my head for a good thirty seconds. I traded in my nice, kind of dorky, dad for the god of the dead. I remembered the way my head whirled, as the axis of my world tilted over, and I would always remember the stares that I got when I sat at my lonely table that first night.

Elena was lucky, she got to sit with her new brother, Percy Jackson (who was supposed to be a big shot, or something. Nobody really filled us in until our second summer there, where we were there for the full two and a half months.) It was a week into camp that I was told I actually had a brother- another brother- at all.

The whole thing didn't feel real to me for a very long time. The concept of gods never really sunk in. I couldn't wrap my mind around it, around these super-powerful beings, and how one of them was supposedly my father. The father who hardly ever went out of his way to speak to me, and who I had only met once.

It was the winter after my first summer of camp, and my brother, Sam, and I were decorating the Christmas tree. My mother was super religious, coming from the mainland of the island, and I was pretty sure that's why my father had never revealed himself to her.

But on a random day- during my winter break, where I was trying to live my life as normally as I could- there was a knock at the door. I didn't pay much attention to who it was until my brother started arguing with them.

My dad, Phil, was at work, and Sam tried to block the doorway between the stranger and our house. Looming over him was the tall dark figure of a man, who pushed him to the side with a hand to his face and stepped through the small doorframe. I had never seen him before, but I recognized him instantly. It was Hades, dressed only in a black suit despite the fact that it was snowing outside. He and I made eye contact, and it was the first and only time I've seen my eyes on another person.

Sam shouted at him, threatening to call the cops, but I could hear my father trying to diffuse the situation. "I just want to speak to the girl," he said in a low voice, and the sound of it sent chills down my spine, different than the cool wind coming in through the open door. Something about it made my brother stiffen and shut down, like an intense version of the mist.

There was no choice but to let him in, and he handed me my coat, hanging off of the railing of the stairs. "Walk with me." It was not a request.

I quickly slipped into my boots, my coat, and joined him. We took the outdoor elevator down to the main ground in silence, and I couldn't help but examine him as he stared straight forward. He was not a particularly attractive man, and I was lucky to have only inherited my eyes from him. I only hoped that they would not reach the dull expression that seemed to permanently rest on his face, the expression that was etched into stone and painted onto canvases all throughout history.

He started speaking when we began to walk beside the busy street. He spoke simply, telling me this: his children never ended up happy. My path was my choice, and mine alone, but all of my past siblings ended up living a tragedy because of their decisions. I remembered his final words the most, "I have chosen to claim you as my child, do not disappoint me."

That was the first and only time I've ever met him.

His warnings governed many of my actions as a demigod. Like every teenager, I didn't always listen, but unlike my brother Nico, I never took a single step into the Underworld. I never learned how to shadow travel, a powerful, yet dark ability. However, I couldn't help my connection with the dead. It wasn't something I could control at first, but something I kept secret from everyone except for Chiron and Elena. According to the rest of camp, I was the most useless child of the Big Three, the image I had intended.

Still, I couldn't help but keep a bookshelf of ancient texts in my cabin. My collection didn't start growing until my second summer, mostly because my cabin wasn't built until then. Nico had slipped me my first book for my birthday, and it was an ancient, yellowing thing, which motivated me to do well in my ancient Greek and Latin language classes.

So far, it's been five summers. Elena and I, eighteen for a good few months now, just graduated high school. Camp changed a lot in that time. The summer we were claimed was the only summer that there was a mass-claiming session. After that, Zeus went back on his promise (big surprise) and kids stopped being claimed. The Hermes cabin started building up again, and for the first two weeks before my cabin was built, I had to spend my time there. It was cramped and hot, and I was thankful for my empty and cool cabin the following year.

Every summer, we'd learn new tricks and skills. I excelled at a bunch of things, including knife training, capture the flag, and my favorite activity, macaroni art. I wasn't too good at the canoes or riding a Pegasus, but I've dipped and dabbled in pretty much everything. There was nothing that I didn't try.

Every school year, Elena and I would attract monsters due to our scents. Two children of the Big Three was pretty much a bright, fluorescent sign that said _EAT ME_! Chiron had insisted that we separate, or that both of us stay at camp full time. I tried that one year, when I turned fourteen, with the excuse to my parents that I was off at boarding school. After two awkward, back-to-back relationships- a son of Hermes and a daughter of Athena- I was ready to go back to regular, mortal school.

Which leaves me at graduation.

Demigods are known for dying young. In the war, there were a ton of deaths, and after that, the current campers were dedicated to keeping the newbies alive. There was extra training, and a lot of teaching, as everyone prayed to their parents to make it back to camp the next year. Elena and I were the same, making it through day by day, until finally, we finished high school.

Graduation wasn't a particularly exciting event, not after living through one of the most brutal games of capture the flag of all time. But my parents, and my brother, showed up, and Elena's mom showed up, and even Nico, who I spotted hiding in the shadows, managed to come as well. Elena and I were dozens of students apart, but we cheered and _woo_ -ed for each other as we both walked and received our diplomas.

My family took me out to dinner afterward, and when I got home, I started to pack for camp. In fact, I stared at my suitcase, lying on my bed half-open and unfolded, and wondered what happened from here. Elena and I were both registered for college in the fall, and Chiron had Iris-messaged me before the school year was over, asking if I would take over and teach the macaroni art class.

Responsibility was approaching, but instead of facing it, I took one look at my mostly-empty closet and grabbed my short black dress. Before Elena and I went to camp, we were going to take on one celebratory night out, and go clubbing.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

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 **Thanks for those who stuck through this introductory chapter. Coming up is the real fun stuff ;) Please feel free to review and follow this story, any commentary would be appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

Elena and I met up on the subway platform. The station wasn't far from either of our apartments, sitting somewhere close to the middle, right outside the doors of a dingy pizza place. The pizza there was actually awful, and we liked it way better at a small stand three blocks away instead.

It was a little difficult, managing myself through the entrance gate with a suitcase at my side and a backpack falling off my shoulder, and I didn't miss the dirty looks the Manhattan natives gave me. I _got_ that I looked like a tourist, but it offended me, a little, to be so easily grouped in. Camp Half-blood was totally worth the struggle, though, even if Elena and I had to figure out how to lug our things around all night. I had an idea or two on how to deal with it.

"Elena!" I shouted, grabbing her attention. Her back was to me, and she turned around the second she heard my shrill voice. "Hey!"

A smile blossomed on her face when she saw me. She looked as beautiful as ever, her long, wavy blonde hair framing her face. She was dressed in a sparkly blue and gold top and a matching pair of shimmery, white shorts, which were way shorter than my black dress. The colors suited her, showing off her beachy tan and long legs, with a powerful confidence that matched it. She was ready to party and looked perfect for the occasion.

Living in a large city, Elena went to clubs and events more often than I did. Still, though it was a lot rarer for me to go, I was no stranger to the party scene. I've been to a club before, even if the idea of it made me… nervous.

"Hey Em," she replied back, the pair of us moving to catch the stalling train. It screeched to a stop, and the doors opened and spilled out a stream of people. We managed to squeeze our way in, clutching to our things tightly, in case of anyone with sneaking hands. I let my things drop to the floor when we were seated, my gaze sweeping through the car and making contact with everyone in it.

It wasn't rare that a monster would hide on one of these things, but I felt comfortable underground. Elena had never admitted to being anything but carefree down here, but as a daughter of Hades, I had the advantage when I was closer to the Underworld. The subways were one of the only ways we could get around the city, considering we didn't have cars and we were too poor, as newly admitted college students, to take cabs everywhere we went.

The seat was cold against my legs. My dress, simple and black, was short on my thighs and scooped low in the back. It didn't cover much, and I wasn't used to the way my bare legs were presented. The heels on my feet were only there because Elena forced me into them, pointed and straps wrapped around my ankles.

I had to admit, though…. I looked pretty good. My hair was straightened, falling just above my shoulders, and my eyes had a sweeping highlight of golden eyeshadow. A Greek armlet rested beside my right elbow, with a matching necklace settled on my collarbone, barely covering what was revealed by my plunging neckline. I hardly ever cleaned up this nicely, but I told Elena I would stop wearing leggings everywhere once we started college. But come on… as if that was _really_ going to happen.

"Ready to get wasted to celebrate us making it through high school?" Elena asked, shaking me from my thoughts.

I gave a short laugh, "Heh, yeah." Even to my own ears, it didn't sound too convincing. I was excited about the dancing, but drinking wasn't an activity I did too often, being underage and all. But it's not as though our (godly) parents had any complaints. Back in ancient Greece, _kids_ drank wine. In Europe, eighteen was perfectly legal. Still, with my strict mother, breaking that particular rule felt unsettling in my gut.

The train was quick, and we were back on the streets before we knew it. Elena led us to the club, one I had never heard of before, and I still felt clunky with both of our suitcases. We were allowed in, technically, but the bouncer would have to mark our hands with giant, black Xs. This time, though, Elena and I were in perfect agreement that that wasn't going to happen.

When we reached the entrance, she and I shared a look, and Elena nodded. I turned to the bouncer, a large man who was actually really nice, and fluttered my eyelashes at him. He blinked, almost hypnotized as I waved my hand in his face and muttered under my breath, twisting the mist around us. I was more talented with it than Elena was, and without saying another word to us, the bouncer took our suitcases to be stored until we were ready to leave, and luckily "forgot" to mark our hands for being under twenty-one.

As we stepped inside, air-conditioning smacked us in the face, over-doing it to make up for the swarm of bodies. I looked up at Elena, and she looked impressed. It was better off than the other shady places she's dragged me to before. It was dark, with flashing lights moving to the beat of the music. There were beautiful women dancing near the DJ's stage, and in the back, a large bar circled around the bartender, seats filled full of people chatting and drinking. In between, the crowd of people danced, shouting out the lyrics to a popular song.

Elena grinned, eyes glued to something in the distance, which she could see over my head. "They're doing body shots over there," she announced, almost in awe, "I'm going to be right back." She patted my shoulder, and dipped into the crowd, leaving me stranded by the entrance, alone.

Normally, this would be fine. Except for the fact that clubs were so _not_ my thing, and totally _hers_. I felt a little lost, unsure of what to do without her. Fortunately, I didn't have to stand around like a total asshole for long. A hand curled around my elbow, and I turned to see some dude smiling at me. He said something, but I couldn't hear him over the bass from the speakers.

I tried shouting at him, and I could only see his mouth form, _What_? I jerked my thumb in the direction of the bar, leaning in the direction, and he fortunately got the message. He stumbled over something on the ground, but recovered.

When we got there, a couple of seats had freed up. He was cute, with sandy-colored hair and stubble that matched it. He was definitely over twenty-one, too. More like older twenties, which was a plus. Those were always the cuter ones, I was so over dumb high school boys.

"Hey, sorry about that," he said, leaning over the bar on his elbow and shouting to the bartender. "Two shots of that lime stuff. With the sugar. Do you know what I'm-? Yeah, man, thanks." He smiled at me, "Had a few of those earlier, they're _great_."

I smiled. "We'll see." I shifted in my seat, trying to channel my inner-Elena, who could talk to guys like this without a problem. "What's your name?"

"Cam."

"Are you from around here, Cam?"

He laughed, and the sound was overly-loud to my ears. He leaned in, "No way, I'm from uh… out of town. Hoping to find…" The drinks were placed in front of us, interrupting him. He and I clinked glasses and downed the shots, which _were_ pretty good. He wasn't lying about that.

He had a pretty face, and smelled like cologne and alcohol. I flashed him another smile, feeling better now that the vodka was warm in my chest. I was about to say something, probably flirty, but all that came out was a squeak when he placed his hands on my thighs.

"What are you— _what are you doing_?"

"Isn't this what you brought me over here for?" he asked, confused and slow. "I bought you a drink." It suddenly dawned on me that I was really stupid. He didn't want to talk, before. He probably wanted to dance, and I brought him over to the bar and…

When he leaned forward, I pushed him away, hands at his chest. It didn't move him very much, and I realized then that he was drunk, too. He didn't trip over something on the dancefloor, he was just really, _really_ out of it.

" _Get off me_ ," I said angrily, annoyed that the first guy I spotted was drunk off his ass.

"What?" He was slow and confused. His hands slid higher up my legs, and out of panic, my fist came up and decked him. It was almost like my arm had a mind of its own, and between my demigod reflexes and inability to handle situations like an adult, I knocked him out cold, where he landed flat on his face.

I blinked, mostly because I wasn't sure how to adjust to what happened. I looked up and around, to see if anyone saw, and no one had except for one person, a few seats down. He and I made eye contact and— _oh my gods_. Oh no.

My eyes went wide like a deer caught in headlights. Down a bit at the bar was Mr. D, the godly activities director from camp. In front of him was a drink, which was full and untouched. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him, and we both sat there in mutual silence. When he did nothing, I stood up from my seat, ready to get the fuck out of this crazy situation.

"I'm guessing he won't be drinking this?" the bartender asked, looking down at the man I had punched. It was another one of the shots, which I had actually really liked, so I took it from his hands. "No, but you can still charge him for it." Drinks in Manhattan weren't cheap. I took it without looking back at Mr. D, circling to the other side of the bar where he couldn't see me anymore, and drank the shot. This is why I didn't do this without Elena. Ever.

I left the bar to go look for her, trying to keep from any more trouble. The lighting was darker on the dancefloor, and I could feel the beat of the music pound through my heart. I couldn't see her golden hair or outfit anywhere, and eventually, I got pulled in when my favorite song came on.

In fact, when I paused my search and began dancing on the edge of the crowd, these two girls saw me and pulled me deeper into the wave of people. The three of us danced together, bodies pressed close, and we stayed with one another for an extra song, and then another one afterward. I only learned they were a couple when they started kissing in front of me.

"Do you want to come home with us?" one had asked.

I wished I could. "I have somewhere to be tomorrow!" I shouted over the music.

They looked disappointed, but both kissed me on my cheeks, probably leaving bright lipstick on my skin. One was significantly drunker than the other, so her girlfriend handed me her glass, "Here, she doesn't need it."

I gladly accepted it, pulling from the crowd to drink it, sparking an idea. After I finished it, I slipped from partner to partner, dancing with drunk couples and eventually stealing their drinks from them. They were happy to have me dance with them and too drunk to complain when I stole their fourteen-dollar alcohol away.

By the time I found Elena, I was more than a little tipsy. In fact, when I found her, I had forgotten I was looking for her in the first place, like, at all. I would have sat with her, and told her all about my fun, but she wasn't alone. She was actually eating some dude's face, practically sitting in his lap as she kissed him, his hands on her hips and up the back of her shirt. _Nope, not dealing with that_. I quickly turned around and made a beeline for the bar, which ended up being on the opposite side of the club. Not far enough away to bleach that out of my head, though.

The bar had more people than when I was there before, but strangely enough, Mr. D was still there. My hazy, drunken mind thought it was a good idea to take the only free spot left… which was directly next to his. I made my way over, which was miraculous in my shoes, and all but dramatically threw myself in the seat.

He looked over at me, and I had to blink to focus on his face. Mr. D looked the same as ever, grumpy, except for the fact that he had two faces. Wait, no. One face. My eyes focused, and I giggled at my mistake. Mr. D only had one face, and I looked at him for the first time in like, ever. He looked probably like, twice my age. Maybe younger? Or maybe way older. I didn't know. And he could be attractive, I guess, if tired-looking, scruffy dudes were your thing.

I thought that it was also _so_ weird that he was still in the _same_ spot a few hours later. He also looked confused to see me again, so I leaned in so he could hear me, our shoulders brushing together, and whispered, " _Hiiiii_." It ended up being louder than I thought it would, and another giggle came out of my lips.

He leaned back, but I followed him and kept talking. "Why are you here?" I questioned. "Are you here for _me_?" Was he here because he had to bring me back to Camp Half-blood? Or because I was breaking the law with my underage drinking? I thought about it for a few seconds, and then erupted in a panicked screech, "Are you here for _Elena_?!" I barely noticed his wince, the words flowing out of my mouth before I could stop them, all filters vanishing from my mind. "Because, like, she's over there making out with someone. I saw her and I was _totally_ not going to deal with that. So if you want her, you're going to have to go get her yourself."

There was a long break as I took a breath, the silence between us stretching forever. The club whirled around me, and I wasn't sure if the floor was supposed to be spinning like that. From what I could tell, Mr. D looked annoyed, and almost in pain. He finally spoke, his words slow, "I don't even know who you are, much less whoever that…. Eleanor person is. Please stay away from me."

"If you're not here for us, why are you here?"

"Stay away," he repeated, "I don't want to deal with the paperwork of turning you into a shrub today." His boot connected with the lower ring of my chair and pushed it away from him. He forced me back a few inches, the chair making an awful noise against the ground, and he didn't seem satisfied with the little bit of distance.

I laughed anyway, and scooted to the end of my chair, basically leaning off of it. If my dress rode up at all, I didn't really notice. He seemed to sigh, and it seemed defeated. "Are you going to drink that?" I asked, pointing to the untouched drink. "It's been sitting there _allllll_ night."

"No."

I leaned forward again, making really intense eye contact, "Can I, like, have it?"

His eyebrows pulled together, as if he couldn't comprehend what the hell I was doing here, asking him this. " _No_ ," he responded.

"Aw," I whined, bummed out. I slouched back in my seat, and his tense posture relaxed just a little bit. "So…" I trailed off, "what's going on with you? Haven't been around camp since last summer."

He said nothing.

I kicked my feet in the air, bored and impatient. I would have danced but I would have probably fallen over if I got up. Instead, I asked, "Have you ever, like, _had_ a _drink_ before?" I'm not sure what I meant to ask. Maybe that drink, in particular. But it was a really, really stupid question.

Mr. D took in a deep breath through his nose, looking up at the ceiling as if asking Zeus for guidance. "No," he said flatly, expression deadpan, "never. Though I wish I had. Right at this moment."

I gestured to it, "There you go."

He stared at me.

The spinning room was making my stomach do all sorts of things, so I put my head down on the bar. "Oh-kay, well goodnight, Mr.D." I was lucky I passed out instead of something worse, like throwing up on him. I probably would have been vaporized. The last thing I remembered was his very confused, sideways expression.

* * *

I slept for probably, like, two minutes. Maybe five. But when I woke up, someone shaking my shoulder, I got a face full of Elena, and Mr. D was gone, nowhere to be found. "What? Wazzit?" I asked, disoriented, looking around the empty room to see a man sweeping up cigarette butts and confetti. The plastic wrapper of a straw stuck to my face, and Elena picked it off of me, throwing it over her shoulder.

"Elena? What time is it?"

She looked over my shoulder at a clock, "Um, four AM?"

I rubbed the heel of my hand into my eyes, forgetting for a moment that I was wearing makeup. Great. "Is this club even open till four?" I asked, slipping off the barstool and ignoring the wedgie it gave me. Elena only shrugged at me.

The strobe lights were off, revealing bright, neon overhead lights that made my head pound. My eyes felt like knives were poking through them, and my stomach twisted sideways. Any wrong move and I would puke all over the floor. Still, despite how horrible I felt, I managed to mist the men at the entrance for our bags and the directions to the bathroom, which was apparently for employees only.

We got dressed quickly. Well, actually, tried to. I took five minutes looking for something to wear before I grabbed my orange camp t-shirt and pulled it on over my dress, not even bothering to remove my makeup, brush my hair, or find my flats. Then I fell back against the tiled bathroom wall, slowly sinking to the floor, unable to care about how dirty it could be.

Elena went through her bag, too, and paused. "Um," she said, looking like she was trying to find the right words. "So I kinda did body shots."

The bathroom light was too bright for my oncoming headache. I covered my eyes with my hands, and replied with a meek, "Yeah?" This hangover was going to be killer.

"Off of Apollo," she finished.

I blinked, removing my hands to look at her. "Oh thank gods," I said in relief, my memories of the atrocious confrontation coming back to haunt me. "Because I had the weirdest conversation with Mr. D at the bar and I didn't know how to bring it up."

"What?" Elena asked, shocked, as if what I said was somehow worse than her doing body shots off of a _god_. "He was there? Or you were there?" It took me a long moment to understand her question.

"No, he was here," I told her. _At the club_. "I don't know what he was doing, because he wasn't drinking. But he wouldn't let me have his drink." I winced, recalling what I could from that horribly embarrassing conversation. I was so drunk. "I asked."

"Oh no," Elena said in sympathy, reaching over to pat my knee. I would never be able to look him in the eye ever again.

"Oh yeah, but what was that about Apollo?"

"We did body shots off of each other, and then… we made out," she admitted, almost sheepishly. Oh right, the dude who had her in his lap.

"You _just_ made out with him?" I questioned, more than a little bit skeptical. I ran into them ages ago, and they were going at it like animals.

"Well I didn't blow him in the bathroom!" she exclaimed, and it was like a spike being hammered into my head. "Okay," she said quietly, "I thought about, but I didn't do it." She sighed, "He left before I would have… and I regret telling you this." She stood up and kicked my foot with her own. "C'mon, up. We've got to catch a cab at Long Island, and you know how they are at this hour."

Giving up, Elena threw her t-shirt over her outfit, too. She pulled her bag over her shoulder, and I slowly followed, doing the same and following her outside. She managed to grab us a cab, and by the time we slid inside, I was already asleep on her shoulder.

When we arrived at Camp Half-blood, the sun was up and I was an absolute wreck. My face was smeared with makeup, my hair frizzing up, and I was still dressed in last night's clothes, my shoes swinging from my hand. It was like a walk of shame, but without the sex.

Chiron was at the Big House steps when we got there, bags in tow. He looked us both up and down, and probably noticed how I looked like death. His smile was mischievous, as if he absolutely knew what we were up to. "You two are here early," was the first thing he said.

"Well, we graduated! And we couldn't wait to get started on canoeing, I think I might go before breakfast," Elena said cheerfully. She was very bubbly, just like she was every morning, and I shot her a dirty look.

"Yeah, canoeing," I said sarcastically, "just what I need." I swayed in my spot, ready to curl up in the dirt and declare it as my new home. Chiron took pity on me and dismissed the pair of us, heading back inside the Big House. I looked at Elena for one moment before dragging myself in the direction of my cabin without another word.

My cabin was the dark onyx building that had a skull over the door and green fire lit at all times of the day. It was a little bit much, but it worked. Once I was inside, I dropped my things to the floor and fell face first on the closest bed.

I slept until dinner, and even then, I was still tired. I managed to dress in actual clothing this time, my camp shirt and some ankle-cropped black leggings. I wore my flats instead of my sneakers, since I wasn't going to do anything but eat and crawl back to bed. My face in the mirror was a nightmare, so I wiped it clean of makeup and pulled my hair into a stubby ponytail so I wouldn't have to deal with it.

Dinner was a quiet event. I sat at my table alone, since Nico was with his boyfriend Will, and I had no other siblings. Well, no other Greek siblings. Probably. Elena was at her table by herself too, since Percy wouldn't be in from college for another week or two. There weren't many campers just yet, since summer hasn't officially started yet. Only the few year-rounders, college students, and recent graduates (like us) were in. The rest would be finishing school in a week and a half or so.

At dinner, I swirled my food around on my plate, still not very hungry from my recovering hangover. I thought about how embarrassing I acted, and as sneakily as I could (which wasn't very much at all) I looked back at table twelve, where Mr. D and his kids sat. He wasn't looking at me, or anywhere near my direction, which was fortunate for my horrified pride.

He looked… different than he had at the bar, where I was so dizzy I wouldn't have been able to count how many fingers a person was holding up in front of me. He looked less awful, though still completely miserable, but considerably less so since he wasn't dealing with overly drunk me.

But there was something about him that didn't seem quite as old either. Drunk me was slightly perceptive, at least. He could have been a little younger than twice my age, maybe late thirties, with dark eyes and dark, curly hair, matching his scruffy beard. He didn't look as old as he had when I was a kid, mostly because _I_ was older and an adult now. His fashion sense could still use some work, though. He'd been wearing those terrible Hawaiian shirts for as long as I could remember, but what did I expect from the director of a camp where we all wore bright orange tee shirts? Orange was no one's color.

He turned around and looked at me, as if he sensed me staring. I froze, and watched as his gaze narrowed at me. Now sober, I made a good choice, and stood up from my seat, dumped my plate, and ditched the dining pavilion for my cabin. I would never, ever speak to him literally ever again in my life. Ever. Seriously.

* * *

 **A/N: There it is! Thank you so much to those who reviewed, it really means a lot. Please feel free to keep it up, as they are very appreciated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

The arts and crafts section of camp was pretty big. A couple of pavilions, a ton of picnic tables, and a clothes line connecting from one section of trees to another. It was almost always full of drying art or neon tie-dye shirts, which were a little stiff under the sun. It was also settled right next to the lake, and as I was led to my specific section by a pair of Hephaestus boys, I caught sight of a couples' canoe flipping over in the water. As long as Percy Jackson didn't show up and create a giant tsunami, the proximity to the arts section would be fine. If anything, a hilarious view to lakeside activities.

To be honest, I wasn't really sure what this teaching position really meant. Chiron Iris-messaged me during the school year asking if I would take it, and since Elena was teaching her swimming classes, I thought it would be fun to teach, too. Besides, there really wasn't anyone else eligible, since the last teacher was a satyr who had a nervous breakdown and turned into a flower and the other campers who took the class were, like, seven years old.

"This is your section," one boy said, no older than twelve. He looked Leo, just younger, with lighter hair and green eyes. "It's not much, but that's because this is your first class." A.K.A: the newbies get the smallest sections. I looked around. One large picnic table that could fit maybe a dozen people, more if the kids were young enough. In the center, three plastic containers full of glue, markers, and brightly colored feathers.

"Where's the macaroni?" I asked, turning to the older boy.

He shrugged. "Probably in the supplies pavilion, which is," he pointed behind us, "that one." He and his brother looked at each other, then at me. "If you need anything, it has to be signed off by the activities director."

I nodded absentmindedly. It was an easy class, I doubted I would need anything at all. The boys dropped a clipboard on the table and left me alone, bickering with each other as they walked away on the dirt path. They had chores to get to, and wanted to push dish duty onto the other one. In their absence, I examined my new studio, if it was anything near that. Just a table and some glue… but I could work with it. If I did well, Chiron would upgrade me the next summer.

There were two weeks until classes officially started. That's when everyone was supposed to be at camp, though people got in a little early and others were stragglers, arriving a few days late. Those were the ones that were running from monsters, or the new campers who just discovered who they were. The Hermes cabin was at its fullest within the first week or two of summer vacation.

So, fourteen days until I had to have my class planned, approved, and stocked. And, unlike Elena- who had been doing her stuff for a while now- I hadn't even started yet. I blamed it on graduation, but at this point it was just procrastination. I eyed the clipboard that sat on the edge of the table, one gust of wind away from falling over. Settling into a relaxed position on the hard, wooden bench, I picked it up and thumbed through the thick wad of paper. There were a _lot_ of pages, too many to even staple together properly, full of forms that needed signatures and a ton of directions. Oh Hades, there was a lot.

No wonder Elena had already started.

How could macaroni art require this much attention? Kids only picked it because they were too shy to join any other group activity, or too timid to try and go up against the lava wall. Half of them stuck the pasta up their _nose_ , but still, these papers had guidelines and _rules_.

I took in a deep breath, let the papers fall flat, and started reading from the first page. It was a checklist of everything I needed, all of the boxes left empty. I stood up to take stock, stealing a marker from the bright orange caddy and checking off the yes box for glue. It looked like we had plenty of that already on the table. I headed to the supplies pavilion. Large cabinets and drawers were lined up, forming a maze under the roof, standing up high next to the pillars. I looked through all of them, looking for what I needed. Luckily, they were labeled in Greek.

Paper, check. Yarn, check. Fuzzy-ball-things, check. Macaroni?

I pulled the designated drawer open to find that it was… empty. I stared at it. _What_? Macaroni was the one thing the class needed. Why wasn't it stocked already? Why did I wake up for this? Leaning against one of the cabinets, I quickly flipped through the pages to find the correct supplies request form. I had a couple of them in the packet, and quickly scribbled out what I needed. Three-thousand boxes or so should probably cover the whole year. I filled out all of the correct information, coming all the way to the bottom where I needed… oh no.

The Hephaestus boys were right. Down at the bottom, I needed the signature of approval from the activities director. Who was, unfortunately, Mr. D. I debated my options for a moment. I could go and ask for him to sign it… or I could leave camp forever, go hide in the Underworld, and never return for all of time. The second option seemed the most tempting, but I reluctantly dragged myself up straight and left for the Big House anyway.

I made it a few steps from the stairs leading into the building when Will, son of Apollo, stopped me by a hand on my arm. "Emilie," he started, "hey."

"Hey Will," I replied, glancing at the house out of the corner of my eye. I tried slipping away, "I actually need to—"

He interrupted me, "Did you break your arm again?" His gaze ran over it, as if looking for some nonexistent break.

"What? No." I yanked it away from him, knowing from Nico how he liked to fix things that sometimes weren't broken. It wasn't completely his fault though. The only time I ever showed up at the Big House was when I was hurt. But as an adult, I had Official Business.

I pulled away and ran up the steps, and Will followed me. On the porch, there were a couple of injured campers, Chiron reading a book in the corner, and a few satyrs surrounding him, munching on some empty aluminum cans. Chiron smiled as I came up, as if he was bored out of his mind by his company. "Hello! Are you looking for me?"

"No!" Why had everyone decided that now was the time to start talking to me? Why now, and not at dinner, where I sat alone at my table every night? Bad timing, guys.

Will was still behind me, "Are you sure it's not broken? It looks a little… I should really…"

I turned around to face him, shoving my finger into his chest, "Touch me and you're a dead man, Solace."

He put his hands up as a surrender, but didn't look frightened. He was used to the temper of Hades kids. I turned back to Chiron, "I'm here on official adult business. Where's Mr. D?"

All of the satyrs, about six, pointed to the door of the house. "Thank you," I muttered, clutching my clipboard and giving Will a solid glare to stop him from following me. This would be a disaster enough on my own, and I barely slipped inside the screen door without someone else coming up to talk to me.

When I got inside, I let my head rest against the wall and took in a deep breath. Then I realized I had no idea what I was going to say to him once I got there.

"Hello," I whispered under my breath, like someone would practice in the mirror. Please sign this form? Please never mention how drunk I was when I talked to you last? "No, no. That won't work."

Someone cleared their throat, and I looked up. Oh, so Mr. D was on the couch. In front of me. The whole time. "Oh my gods," I groaned, covering my face with my hands, clipboard tucked under my arm. He said nothing as I silently wished I picked the Underworld option. After a few moments, I dropped my hands and put a fake smile on my face, stiffly laughing. "Oops, you didn't hear any of that. _Anyway_ ," I forced out, "Mr. D, I need your help."

He stared at me like I was crazy, a pack of cards in his hands, as if he was just spending his time shuffling it. I swallowed, nervous by the awkward tension in the air. After a bit of him not saying anything, I thrust the papers in his face, blurting out without a pause between my words, "Canyousignthisplease." With my other hand, I pulled out the marker, which was green, and offered it to him.

He looked me up and down once, before turning his attention back to his cards. "No." I felt dismissed.

I frowned, looked around the room, unsure of what to do. I knew Mr. D didn't like to do anything to do with camp, but this was… his job? I couldn't order anything without his approval. How did Elena get this stuff done? Did she use up all of his patience before I even got the chance to start? I wouldn't be surprised.

Since climbing wasn't going to start until two, I sat down in one of the chairs across from the couch and waited. I sat still and patient, and after a few seconds, Mr. D paused what he was doing to look back up at me.

"You're not leaving."

"I really need you to sign this."

"I'm not going to."

"Okay." I didn't move.

He narrowed his eyes, but ignored me. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, and I found myself staring up at the ceiling, really wishing I had brought something to actually do. Whenever Mr. D shifted uncomfortably, I would turn my gaze back to him and stare. To remind him why I was there, I set the clipboard on the table, rested the marker on top of it, and slid it towards him. He didn't even look at it.

The stretching silence was incredibly uneasy, and finally, Mr. D made a disgruntled noise and reached over across the coffee table. He uncapped the marker and scratched his signature into the page, dropping it when he finished. "There, be gone. I can't enjoy the quiet while you're here."

I smiled at my success, up on my feet and swiping the clipboard back into my arms. I caught his eye as I was leaving. "Thank you so much," I gushed, and was out the door faster than I was when running from a monster. Okay, slight exaggeration. But only a little.

I sealed the order form in an envelope and dropped it in the mail slot at the front of the Big House, knowing that it would be several days before the order came in. I left the Camp Half-blood phone number on it for the company to call in case of any changes.

* * *

There was just enough time to make it to climbing wall practice. I ran all the way from the Big House and made it just as the first person was making their way up. The lava was beginning to seep from the wall, and I could feel the heat of it from several feet away. It was always the best and worst part. The heat always made my eyes water, and made my skin bubble when it touched me, but the adrenaline kicked my demigod reflexes in and made it easier to learn and do the activity. Besides, it was way better than sword fighting in the arena.

I stayed towards the back of the group, watching as a few people went up and listened as the instructor spoke. One guy's whole forearm got burned, and he had to be escorted to the Big House for medical attention. As the crowd cleared up to help him, it was clear that it was going to be going back there or climbing the wall myself… so naturally I chose the wall.

The stone grips were warm, but not too hot. The lava was slow as it dripped, but I knew pretty well that one wrong move meant a face full of burns. Demigods didn't get the luxury of a safety harness—at least, not at my age. I looked behind me at the group, and in the distance I saw two girls carrying the kid away. I started to climb.

Being pretty petite, it was hard to reach the out of the way stones. I had to get creative, pushing with one leg, stretching my body out so my fingers could smooth over the ledge. At one point, I had to take a literal leap of faith and jump. Unfortunately, I slipped, and singed the edge of my hair only inches from my face. I steadied myself before it could touch my skin, but invisible waves of heat made tears well in my eyes. Using all of my strength, I pulled myself away.

Wall climbing was something I was generally good at. I wasn't a water person like Elena, or as good with a sword or bow as the Ares or Apollo kids, but I could climb things pretty well. I liked it because it was less to do with fighting and more to do with survival. I could jab someone with a sword or a knife as well as the next person, but I preferred the easier activities at camp, like arts and crafts. Still, Elena made me go to the arena to train every week anyway. Something about keeping me alive, or _something_.

I made it to the top of the wall, rang the bell, and everyone cheered. However, the hardest part was managing your way down without lighting your brand new shoes on fire. My poor Nikes from seventh grade were never the same after that. I made my way down the wall slowly, but did manage to get a little burnt, the edge of my elbow grazing the surface of a lava chunk. I was biting the inside of my cheek by the time my feet touched the ground.

"Good job!" the instructor praised, as if it hasn't taken me six years to learn to do that relatively injury-free. I went to the back of the group again, smiling at a friend while covering the burn with my spare hand. I would just clean it up back at my cabin later on that night.

* * *

My cabin, designed like a dark vampire cave, was great for sleeping. There was hardly anyone in it (with only Nico on occasion), great air conditioning, and sound-proofed walls. There could be a war going on outside and I would have no idea. When I went to bed at night, I expected only to be woken up by the sound of my alarm or—

"Emilie!"

-or Elena.

I groaned. The door was cracked open, letting in a warm breeze and a headache-full of sunlight. Elena's hand curled around my shoulder, giving my body a soft shake. When I didn't bother to get up, like always, she grabbed a pillow off of the closest bunk and smacked me in the face with it.

"What?" I slurred, rubbing at my exhausted eyes. I hadn't seen her since the day before, where she and I had a quick conversation after dinner and talked about how great my little minor injury was.

When my eyes focused, I realized she had a cup in her hand. Iced coffee, black. A gift. For me. "Oh, coffee," I said. Whenever Elena left camp to go get breakfast on her own, she always brought coffee back for me so I could get out of bed. Otherwise, I'd sleep right past lunch and only show up to dinner.

However, this time she didn't leave after waking me up. She stayed hovering at the edge of my bed for a moment before sitting down. "You're still here," I said, still dazed from my long sleep.

Elena only rolled her eyes at me, settling into her spot and getting comfortable around my feet. "Yes," she said, a laugh in her voice. There was something else there, too. Nerves? "I, um, met someone. While getting coffee."

My eyes widened. I was suddenly more awake than I was a second ago, even with the coffee. I pulled my legs closer to me, sitting up straight. "Were they cute?" I asked. "Did you…" I paused, thinking over my words. She couldn't get their phone number, since cellphones were dangerous for demigods. Email? Home address? "…uh, arrange to meet them again? Or. Whatever."

"Not… like that," Elena said slowly. "I saw Apollo again."

 _What_.

"You saw him _again_?" I asked, coffee freezing cold between the space between my thighs. "Was he just, like, there?"

Elena shrugged, and I don't think my eyebrows could have gone any higher up on my forehead. I leaned forward, drink forgotten, pushing her to talk. I grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Elena! Come on!"

"Okay, okay," she laughed, pulling away from my super grip. "We ran into each other," she gushed. "We got there at the same time, basically, but talked for over an hour."

I couldn't believe it. I told her that, and when she rolled her eyes, I kept going, desperate for details. "Who talked to who first?"

"I did," she said proudly. "But we walked towards each other at the sam—don't look at me like that. Hey, don't- it was a friendly conversation."

"Uh-huh," I said, completely unconvinced. I may have believed her, but her cheeks were bright red, immediately giving her away. That, and the fact that they've already had a makeout session before. "Friendly, right. What did you guys talk about?"

"School, my major." She wrinkled her nose in distaste, but her eyes glazed over with a soft look. "He doesn't like philosophy, but he started quoting poetry at me…"

Unable to help myself from silently laughing at her, I gave Elena a kick in the leg. "Oh my gods, you so like him." It was a little shocking, liking an actual god, but… well, you couldn't get a better boyfriend than that.

"Shut up," she hissed, but her cheeks flushed even more in embarrassment. "He drove me home, though. And we almost…" she chewed on her bottom lip, thinking her words over. "We got really close in his car and we almost kissed, I think."

"Kind of a letdown after already doing body shots off of him," I said. Chilly water splashed across my thighs, and I quickly remembered my drink. I picked it up and took another sip, thankful that the actual coffee didn't spill all over my shorts.

Elena rolled her eyes again, "So… I _think_ he was flirting with me."

I stared at her as if she was stupid. "Um, of course he was flirting with you. _Obviously_." Even though it was probably a horrible idea, I felt… somewhat proud of my friend. "So like. Hell yeah, Elena, get that divine dick!" She laughed with me, but quickly, I added, without a breath between my words, "But don't piss him off ever you may die."

Dating a god… pros: they're super hot, buy you lots of presents, take you to extravagant places, great sex... cons: if you spark their temper they may actually smite you. Totally not worth it, but…

Elena shook me out of my thoughts, finally getting out of my bed. She caught me halfway through a sip of my drink, "I'm going swimming with the naiads, see you at lunch."

"Mhmm," I replied, giving a small wave.

With her gone, and caffeine in my system, I felt almost ready to take on the day. I pulled myself out of bed, taking off my t-shirt and putting on _another_ t-shirt. But this one was for camp, so it was okay. Even the Aphrodite cabin had to wear them. Elena and I always argued which of us looked better in orange (me, obviously.)

Today felt like a very… relaxed day. A few more campers arrived a little early, mostly a group of eleven-year-olds and one Hermes kid. I decided to spend my time making posters for my macaroni art classes, making giant macaroni rainbows and even one really, really sloppy Mona Lisa. She was okay, but her smile was a little… crooked. The glue had dripped when it was drying, ruining the whole look.

When the posters were dry, I hung them up at different spots around camp, taping them to random walls. I'm pretty sure I had permission for it. If they fell, macaroni was actually _great_ for the environment. I hung them up by the lake, outside of the arena, and even on the porch of the Big House, hanging from the white railings. I ran and taped it quickly, so no one inside would see me. Except for Elena, who was dropping off one of her letters to her father to be delivered.

That night, at dinner, I sat alone at my table. But Elena did too, since her brother, Percy Jackson, hadn't arrived from college yet. I couldn't leave to go sit with her like my brother, Nico, did. As a camp counselor for my cabin, and teacher of a class, Chiron said I had to set some sort of _example_. The same applied for Elena.

Halfway through dinner, Mr. D stood up at his table to make one of his announcements. I very pointedly did not look at him, stirring my fork through my mashed potatoes. "Chiron wanted me to say a few words…" he started, "since more of _you_ will be showing up to start summer… next Saturday, we'll be holding capture the flag." Then he sat down, muttering to himself under his breath.

Some cheers erupted throughout the dining pavilion, and whispers filled the room as tables began to plot their game plans. Elena and I looked at each other across the room, nodding. We were always on the same team, which actually lost the last five games last summer. This time, though, the other side wouldn't be able to stand a chance.

* * *

 **Hello again, everyone! I hope you've been well. Please review, I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

The morning was already warm and humid at dawn. The sun peaked through the thick barrier of trees at the edge of camp, just at the perfect spot to shine bright in my eyes. I trudged along on the dirt path, hands curled around a giant cup of camp coffee. The ice had already melted and the condensation on the side of the cup was dripping down my fingers. Still not the worst I've ever had.

As I squinted past the sunlight, I could see Elena in the distance. She was with Kayla, a daughter of Apollo, taking practice shots at the archery range. There were a couple other kids, mostly Kayla's siblings- Eric, Will, Jack- and one or two Ares kids. Since I didn't want to interrupt their early morning practice, and also since it was too early for any words that came out of my mouth to make sense, I waited. I sat at the base of a particularly large pine tree and took small sips from my mug.

The only reason I was up at such a horrible hour was the fact that my classes officially started today. It wouldn't be long before I was expected to have everything ready, even though most of the kids I was teaching weren't even at camp yet. I wasn't even sure how many to expect for the first lesson. To top it off, despite the few days that had passed since I made the order, the macaroni still hadn't arrived yet.

Which led me to archery, at seven in the morning, on a Tuesday. Or, more importantly, to Elena. Toward the end of the lesson, or practice, whatever, I stood up from my spot and made my way over. "Hey Elena," I greeted, resting my hand on her elbow as she was putting her things away.

She jumped, and looked at me with startled eyes. "Emilie," she said, surprise coloring her tone. "What are you doing here?"

I looked over her shoulder to see Eric, who was staring at us. He quickly turned away when he caught my gaze, flushing bright red. "I'm up early to get stuff ready for my class. I was hoping everything would be here by now, but…."

"But?"

"The macaroni isn't here yet," I said quietly.

There was a beat of silence, and then a quiet snort. My eyes snapped back to Elena, who was trying to cover up her laugh with her hand. She must have seen something on my face, because she quickly said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you have to admit that this is hilarious."

"It doesn't _feel_ hilarious. How am I supposed to teach without macaroni? I'm ruined!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm sure you'll be fine. There's still hardly anyone at camp, anyway. I'm sure you could improvise." Elena zipped up the last of her things into her bag and stood up straight, slinging it over her shoulder. She shifted her weight, motioning for me to follow her. I did.

"How do I do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have no idea. The kids are, like, seven right? They'll do whatever you say. Make them outline stuff. Or do your laundry." She laughed at her own joke, but it wasn't a horrible idea…

"Elena," I said suddenly, "you're a genius. I could kiss you."

"Please don't," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Are you really going to make them do your laundry?"

"What? Oh, no. But! Outlining is totally a bullshit lesson. It'll teach them patience, or something."

She and I talked for a few more minutes, walking to breakfast together. Since I was a more sleep-now-eat-later kind of girl, it was rare that I ended up attending the meal at all. Breakfast was a lot less strict than dinner or even lunch, with kids coming and going as they wanted for a few hours, sitting with anyone at any table.

I poked at some scrambled eggs and basically inhaled five pancakes. Elena talked about how she's been "really improving at her archery lately" and how she "hit the target three whole times." It didn't sound too impressive, but compared to her record of about zero target shots for the past six years, I would agree on an improvement. That is… if I actually believed her. No matter how much she said about the morning lessons and her inner zen, I was still convinced she was making it up, especially since the three shots happened before I arrived to watch that morning.

And, okay, it was a little bad, but I tuned out after a little while. I was still listening, sorta, but my attention was pulled away by Mr. D's table across the dining pavilion. There were three people sitting there, including Mr. D himself, his son Pollux, and his daughter Camy. Pollux looked half-asleep still, eating his cereal but not really all there yet. Camy looked really enthusiastic, talking at her dad about something really disgusting, and Mr. D looked like he wanted his whole body to melt into the floor. He rubbed at his temples and looked like he was counting down the seconds until he could leave.

It wasn't surprising. Mr. D looked and acted way different from his kids. Both Pollux and Camy had blonde hair, although Camy's was a lot darker than her brother's. Pollux was always more laidback and quiet, especially after his twin brother died. Cami had always been… very interesting. With the open pavilion, you never had to wonder how awkward their family meals might be. The clash of personalities was left out right in the open, for everyone else to see.

After breakfast I made my way to the arts and crafts section of camp. My lonely picnic table was there, plain and bare, so I grabbed a long sheet of paper (you know, like those cheap restaurants have on their tables) and laid it across. Then I threw down some crayons because it was all I could trust those seven-year-olds with at the moment.

It didn't take long to prep everything. When I finished, I sat down on the bench and waited, twisting my hands together, not quite nervous but… okay, nervous. This was the first time Chiron had ever expected me to be responsible for anything. Or anyone. Chiron put more faith into us demigods than we maybe deserved. But it would be fine, totally, completely fine. I could totally handle it. I was an Adult.

So I waited at my table, my leg bouncing, waiting for the kids to arrive. It took twenty minutes, but a group of them all came at once. It was a line of four, all of them smiling and talking to each other, and I quickly jumped to my feet. I smoothed down my camp t-shirt and tried to look like I deserved being in charge (I didn't).

"Hello," I greeted with a smile, counting over them. Yes, definitely four, three boys and a single girl. The boys looked like triplets, with sandy blond hair and dark green eyes. The one in the middle had his two front teeth missing.

The kids greeted me with a chorus of hellos, and found their way to the table, sitting on the bench that was too big for them. The girl seemed to be taller than the boys, and the boys all squeezed together on one side and the girl on the other. I assumed she wasn't related to them at all with her jet black hair and dark skin. We wouldn't know for sure she was claimed in a few years.

I clapped my hands together, gathering their attention. "All right, kiddos! Today we're going to practice drawing pictures before we get to any fancy gluing. On the table is some paper and some crayons, and you guys can draw whatever you want to make macaroni art of later, okay? Any questions?"

One of the boys raised his hand, "What do we draw?"

I forced a smile. "Anything you want, uh…" I squinted, "Bradley?" I thought that was the right name. He didn't correct me so I took that as a good sign. They were the Hermes triplets that arrived two days before and were claimed as soon as they entered the camp borders. Chiron was not thrilled to hear about it, they would give him a lot of suffering in the years to come.

Bradley raised his hand again, "What if we don't know what we want?"

"Then draw whatever you can think of."

A pause, then a raised hand. I sighed, "Yes, Bradley?"

"I can't think of anything."

The others had already started drawing. "Then draw what you see. Draw the trees, or draw me." He squinted his eyes at my face, and then nodded, scribbling furiously. His tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration.

I sat back down at the empty spot at the end of the table, watching them. After I gave my instructions, I didn't do much else but make sure they were where they were supposed to be. I didn't feel much like a teacher, more like a… glorified babysitter. But babysitting was a lot less stressful, so it felt like a small victory for me. At least Elena was probably in the same boat I was, I could barely see her all the way across the lake.

Peering over the table, I took survey of what the children were drawing, a bit curious. The boys' art didn't look like much of anything just yet, but I was at a weird angle. Bradley was hunched over his, and his brother… was tracing a rock. I wasn't sure when he had gotten up to get the thing, but he was curving his crayon around the edges of it onto the paper. I frowned. It wasn't even a good rock. I would have picked a better one.

The girl, though, swerved lines across the table with her left hand. She looked like she was doodling some sort of bird, which was a start. She didn't look like she hit her head too many times so she was immediately promoted to my favorite student.

Exactly fifty-five minutes later, class was officially over. I shooed the students away, watching them walk to their next class long enough to see their backs disappear. I turned back to the table to examine the final results:

Definitely a bird. The triplets drew some sort of… mess. The rock outline was the best, and the portrait of myself looked like a lumpy cloud or something Picasso would draw. The drawings looked really sad, mostly, but they would have to work. I gathered the long paper, folded it up carefully, and tucked it into my clipboard with the rest of my things for the class.

I hoped the macaroni would arrive in time. I wasn't sure how many classes I could do without actual instruction. Someone was eventually going to find out that I procrastinated too long.

Oh well, today was done. I wouldn't have to stall for much longer.

* * *

Just kidding. Apparently I was gonna have to stall for a _lot_ longer.

I was in the arena, in the full armor, practicing wrath blows with my borrowed sword when I got pulled aside by Percy. He was the instructor, just having made it to camp in time to teach his first class. When he showed up, he was still in his shorts and camp tee-shirt, a duffle bag pulled across his shoulders. I had asked him if he had unpacked yet, and he laughed a little, and said, "No way. I'm here to avoid my responsibilities."

"With more responsibilities?" I had asked.

"Yep!" he said enthusiastically, and sent us to fight as he got his armor on.

So I thought that was our once-a-summer conversation, the one that usually happened when Elena awkwardly leaves us alone together. When Percy pulled me out of the way, I was a little surprised by what he had to say.

"Sartey wants to talk to you." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and I leaned over a little bit to see a satyr pacing back and forth, right outside the entrance.

"Why?" I whispered, pulling my helmet off.

Percy shrugged, and said. "No idea. Good job on your technique, though. See you back inside."

"Thanks—" I started to say, but he was already halfway back to the class. I left the arena, my armor clacking against itself. When Sartey saw me, he immediately bucked up straight. He looked like every other satyr on the planet, scruffy and skinny, with questionable fashion choice and extreme anxiety.

"Are you Emilie?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, raking a few fingers through my tangled hair. The helmet was really hot, so my sweaty hair stuck to my face. At least there was a nice breeze to cool me off. "Percy said you wanted to talk to me?"

"U-uh, yeah. You got a call at the Big House."

He stopped talking, and I waited a few moments for him to keep going before I realized that he wasn't going to. "Who was it?" I asked, crossing my arms impatiently. The armor made it kind of difficult, but I was determined.

"Some macaroni company."

I rolled my eyes, "Okay, what did they say?"

Sartey pulled out a piece of paper from the front pocket of his fanny pack and bent over it, reading it aloud to me. "Hello, this is Mac from Roni Inc., looking for an Amalie Reynolds—no, sorry, Emilie. Just wanted to tell you that you don't… actually... have a legitimate address. Normally I'd think that this shipment is a prank, but you already paid for it? So, we'll get it to you. Somehow. It'll just be a while. Anyway, feel free to call us back to clear this up. Thanks."

"That's… very specific," I said after a moment, processing it.

"I remember phone calls perfectly," Sartey said. "Ever since a scary mortal mother called looking for her son and I screwed it up. _Never again_ ," he said darkly, looking into the distance.

"Okay," I said strangely, looking behind me and seeing nothing there. "Well, thanks."

He nodded, and then promptly shoved the whole piece of paper into his mouth. I turned around on my heel to head back to practice, but turned back around in one complete circle to ask, "Did you get the callback number?"

Sartey looked at his empty hands where the note was, and then said though a mouth full of paper, " _No_."

I let my face fall into my hands. Great.

* * *

Practice after that was mostly just getting out all of my nervous energy. I had a macaroni class with no macaroni and no backup plan. Percy, seeing my torment, asked what was wrong and suggested I use the dozens of spaghetti boxes in storage. Who did he think I was? The spaghetti art teacher? I would be ruined twice over.

After I exhausted myself, I went and showered, and then chilled out around the hearth with a few other kids. It was later in the day, and as the sun started to set, the air settled into a nice temperature where the heat from the flames wouldn't make your face melt off. Not that Hestia would allow that, at least. Hearth-related deaths didn't do much for familial morale.

It was maybe an hour or so later when Elena came back, fresh from the beach. She was actually wet for once, dressed in her shorts and bikini, a towel around her shoulders. She liked getting wet sometimes, felt closer to the ocean that way (and the fact that the sea salt made her hair look great, and she loved walking through camp showing off how pretty she was to all her exes.)

She looked pretty tired though, so I only ran to catch up with her on her way back from the showers. I had to walk twice the speed to keep up with her long strides. "Where were you?" I asked, because she was only supposed to be gone for a few hours, not all day. I needed to tell her— "Percy's back!"

"I know," she said distractedly, "I saw him in our cabin."

"Oh," I said, and asked, "What do you think's for dinner?"

"Probably barbeque," she responded, as if it was every different.

"Fair," I replied, and we went off to eat dinner, separating to our own tables as soon as we got there.

Surprisingly, for the first time since graduation, Nico was at the Hades table. "Nico," I said, more amazed than surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked moodily, as if he thought I would take the attitude from him. His expression was all sorts of sour, his nose scrunching up the way mine did when I was unhappy, and his long hair covered the glare that was probably in his eyes. Even if I didn't know him as well as I did, it would have been obvious that he was pouting.

"Um, I don't know if you've realized this, but I haven't seen you in like six months since winter break. I don't even think you live in our cabin anymore—the only thing of yours in there is that creepy skeleton hanging on the wall. I haven't taken him down only because he screams at me when I try."

His shoulders seemed to sag, looking even more pathetic now than when I sat down. "That's Eugene, he reminds me of home. Will wouldn't let me put him up in his cabin."

"Nico."

He sighed. "Will is spending the weekend with his mom upstate, and she wouldn't let me go with him this time."

I tried really hard not to roll my eyes, mostly because Nico looked like a kicked puppy. "Look, I get that this codependency you two've developed makes it really hard for you not to mope, but don't. Besides! Capture the flag is on Friday, and Will will be back just in time for the pre-war meeting right before. So cheer up, shut up, and eat your chicken."

Nico grumbled something under his breath but he did what I told him to, biting sadly into a chicken leg and looking wistfully at the Apollo table.

* * *

The rest of the week passed by quickly. More campers arrived, more were claimed, and more signed up for my class that I was just pretending not to freak out over. On Friday, around two-thirty, all of Blue Team met up in the Big House to discuss battle strategies.

Over the last summer, the teams of capture the flag shifted based on new alliances. On our side were the cabins with smaller numbers (with the exception of Apollo, Will and Nico could never be split up like that.) So, for example, Hades and Poseidon teaming up wasn't too bad because there were only two members in each cabin. Even with our Big Three powers, the Ares cabin alone had us outnumbered ten to one. Also on our side was the Nyx, Hecate, and Dionysus cabins, paired with a couple others. The small-cabin alliance didn't work in our favor last summer, but we were determined to make up for it.

Will led the meeting this time, walking into the room with a plan already in mind. Camy had gotten us the most private place to talk that we could find, using her connections with her dad to get us the conference room that was only used every once in a while. When I asked her how she did it, she said that she just wouldn't leave her dad alone until he gave it to her. Very admirable of her. A tactic I approved of.

Will selected the Tri-Delta strategy. It was hard to take him seriously with Nico octopussed all over him, but Will seemed to make it work. Everyone was in agreement that this strategy, one that hadn't been used for a while, was sure to work.

The Tri-Delta strategy was a pretty simple one. It could only work with small numbers, which is why it hadn't been used in the past couple years. There were three main teams, each a group of three. The rest, or spectators, acted as distractions or bait for the opposite (red) team. One team guarded the flag, the other went to go get the other team's flag, and the third team helped trap or transport other people to the Blue Team jail. Easy, right?

The outline of the battle strategy didn't take very long at all. Will, with the help of Nico and Percy, described it to everyone. Then we got divided into our teams.

"Alright, Percy, you're on guard duty. You're with Elena, and uh… Camy." In the back, I saw Camy throw her fist in the air, getting the position she wanted. Elena and Percy smiled at one another, the Poseidon duo paired up yet again. "Hide the flag somewhere full of water—over by the creek?"

Percy nodded at him. "Got it," he said, and tapped at the map of camp that rested on the table, right in the middle of the creek, maybe halfway down.

"Recon…" Will hummed, eyes scanning over the room. Nico shifted in his position next to him, and Will said, "Oh no. Your sister is here, she can do it. You're with me."

"What? Oh alright," Nico responded, not putting up any bit of fight at all. Usually it was Nico and Will who went and captured the flag. Hades kids could shadow travel and pop up every twenty feet or so. This way, you could suddenly appear in enemy territory, look around for the flag, and disappear before anyone captured and/or maimed you.

"Pollux and Lou Ellen are with Emilie," Will announced, finishing up the meeting. "Everyone else grab two partners."

Alex, son of Nyx, spoke up from his spot towards the front of the room. "Will, don't make us lose the damn capture the flag game because you didn't want to part from your boyfriend!" Next to him, an Iris kid nodded in agreement.

"Hey!" Will argued, "We have Emilie! She's, uh... she's an adult! She's… competent?" He turned around to Nico, whispering, "That was the word you wanted me to use, right? 'Competent'?" When Nico nodded, and rolled his eyes, Will faced the room again, "Yes! She's competent!"

"Wow, thanks guys," I said sarcastically, mirroring my brother and rolling my eyes. I didn't have the best track record with capture the flag—back during winter break, I lost us the game by breaking my arm and dropping the flag when I got attacked by a monster in the woods. But it wouldn't happen again.

I looked over at Lou Ellen, who grinned mischievously at me. My gaze moved to Pollux, who was listening to Will address him, "Pollux, please try not to 'accidentally' maim yourself again. I'm tired of stitching you back together." When I locked eyes with Pollux, I realized Will was talking to me.

"And on that note Emilie you should probably also not do anything."

I twisted around in my seat to look at Will, back and forth between him and Pollux, never sitting still. "What? I'm the lead!"

"Yes, and you're gonna be super tired. Try not to die, thanks." Another pause, and then, "Okay, everyone meet at six!"

* * *

"Hey, Lou," I said, my arm reaching behind my back, twisting at a weird angle, "can you strap me into my armor? I can't get it."

Lou Ellen laughed but strapped my breastplate to my side, even tightening it to fit my small frame. One of the negative things about being short is that nothing fit you properly—even life-saving armor.

After she and I helped each other get ready, I looked over my shoulder, "Are you good, Pollux?"

"Yeah," he replied curtly, "let's go."

Holding my hands out to both Lou and Pollux, I said, "Alright, let's do this." I counted down from three, and on zero, we charged directly for a tree, disappearing into the shadows before we could juggernaut ourselves right into it.

From then on, it was kind of like the game whac-a-mole… only with more draining super-shadow powers, less whacking, and more demigods with swords charging at you once you crossed enemy lines. Every time I would appear, we would only have a few moments before someone would hear us, or before we knew the flag wasn't anywhere near where our eyes could see.

After a couple of shadow-jumps, Lou Ellen suggested we move by foot for a few dozen yards.

"Good idea," I whispered to her, and motioned for Pollux to keep close. We still all held hands, which was kind of gross because we were all sweaty- and also a little weird because while Lou and I were friends, I didn't really know Pollux all too well. Anyway, we walked in stealth-mode for a little while, managing at least ten or twelve minutes without being spotted.

Then the Red Team found us.

It was two Ares kids and a Hephaestus girl, who was sporting a pretty wild spear-and-shield combo, which looked more like a computer than my mom's five-year old laptop back at home did. I pulled Lou Ellen and Pollux into a shadow, but it was a flaky jump at best, transporting us only ten feet away. I was already too tired to shadow travel again, lagging behind and having to be dragged along by Pollux.

Lou separated from us, keeping the Hephaestus girl away by making a mirage around her weapons, making them invisible. It wouldn't last for long. Pollux let go of my hand and grabbed my arm, hauling me behind him. "Get the flag!" he shouted, and pointed to the pile of rocks the flag was presented on—Zeus' fist.

"What about you?"

"Forget about me!" He shot a couple of arrows, but the Ares boys got too close for that kind of weapon. Instead of running away, Pollux fought them off with his bow, whacking them on the head with it like a club.

I was frozen, a little dazed from the jumps but also a little amazed that he would throw himself at them so suddenly. He didn't even think about it.

Lou Ellen came up behind me, her hand gentle on my elbow. "Come on, Emilie," she whispered, "we have to get to the flag."

"What about Pollux?" I asked.

"Go on without me!" he exclaimed dramatically, answering my question. The Ares guys were starting to overpower him, so Lou pulled me away. I stumbled behind her. The shadow travel was really starting to affect me. I was pretty tired, my eyelids weighing down like they were a thousand pounds. The rest of me felt like I hadn't slept in three days.

"Are we really going to leave him?"

Snorting, Lou Ellen said, "Oh yeah, he shouldn't have been so careless."

We sprinted to the red flag as quickly as we could. I was definitely slowing her down, but even like this, I was the better climber. Lou fought off the two guards, and I climbed up the pile of boulders, my hands curling around the staff of the flag. All I would have to do was hold on, jump into a shadow, and show up on Blue Team's side. Okay, deep breath, first pull out the—

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble. I could barely hold on to the flag, let alone keep myself balanced. It took a moment for me to realize it was an earthquake, and then another moment after that for me to realize I was falling.

The flag was still in my hands by the time I hit the ground and passed out.

* * *

When I woke up again, it was completely dark outside.

My head, and actually my entire body, ached. It felt like a monster had taken my head and split it open against the edge of a bowl like an egg, scrambling me up for a nice demigod breakfast. Even in the darkness I felt disoriented, unable to figure out where I was or how I got there.

All I knew was that I was on a porch with a couple of other sleeping kids. I tried to sit up, and managed to see through the window behind me. There wasn't much to see, the room inside (the Big House, maybe?) was completely dark except for the light coming from the camp TV.

Actually, as my eyes focused, I could see Mr. D inside, watching the TV. He was hanging off the couch, the bright neon lights from the screen making him look like a zombie. Or maybe that was my head? The entire world was spinning, so there was a good chance I was hallucinating.

Fortunately, I was able to settle into my chair before blacking out again. At least there was a pillow.

* * *

 **Hello readers! Sorry for late update. I just transferred universities but now I'm roommates with Riley! It's actually really funny, today is our 6 year anniversary of this story. We're STILL somehow writing this thing.**

 **Not only that, but some weird stuff is going on at our college. We live in a building dedicated to Zeus, right next to the Dionysus building (bae), and other dorms are named after Greek stuff, like Beta and Castor Halls (which is the twin brother of Pollux!). The name of the stadium in the city we live in is Emilie's alternate name in the novel we're writing, and I just went on a date with a man who's a "director" who is suspiciously older than me. It's okay though, I'm an adult ;)**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading and being so patient with us! Are there any crazy weird Greek occurrences going on in your lives?**


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